


whispering pages and time gone by

by CherFleur



Series: SW prompts [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Bonding Time!, Gen, Jango is not a book nerd he is a gun nerd it's very different, King dad to the rescue!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:07:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27020227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherFleur/pseuds/CherFleur
Summary: Sometimes Jaster enjoyed to sit down and have an ugly, pointless debate about ancient politics. Sometimes he liked the satisfaction of a hunt completed, a contract honored.Usually, he just liked spending time with his family.
Relationships: Jango Fett & Jaster Mereel
Series: SW prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971988
Comments: 7
Kudos: 96





	whispering pages and time gone by

**Author's Note:**

> Discord prompt from Mya: Jango and Jaster bonding

There was a light on in Jango’s bunk.

Usually, the little biter was dead asleep after a day of training, exhausted from pushing himself to his limits against fully trained commandos. If he wasn’t sleeping after a full day of getting his ass handed to him, it generally meant that he wasn’t in a good headspace.

Nightmares, anxious restlessness. Overthinking something he’d missed in training three months ago that he’d mastered already.

His kids were never kept up contemplating the future, they were always held captive by the past.

Jaster was the opposite, but he tried to be there for his kids, to teach them how to let go and live in the now. To varying degrees of success.

So when he saw a light on in Jango’s room… well, it was instinct to peek inside to make sure that everything was alright.

What he saw was not at _all_ what he had been dreading, though what he found in front of him was world tilting enough. He’d expected brooding or maybe a few tears, Jango doing a workout to try and exhaust himself further so that whatever was on his mind would be worn out of him. He’d expected to need to pry his prickly son off the ceiling and wrestle some emotional conversation out of him.

What he _got,_ was his teenage son reading a treatise from Iridonia written two centuries ago, with a flimsie with translations on the side.

The furrow between his boys’ brows could perhaps be called a canyon.

Frustration made Jango’s eyes misty as he apparently doggedly read through what had to be something that he’d been dared to read. Jaster might be something of an amateur academic, who enjoyed reading long winded treatises and historical memoirs, but his son had never been the same kind of person. While Jaster might have wished he took to his academic studies as well as his physical ones, he knew that people learned differently.

He'd never wanted a clone of himself, after all. Just a son.

“Bit of light reading?” he interrupted with a quirk of his lips, pleased when frustration slid off his son’s face to be replaced with annoyance. “I’d say I’m proud but it’s the middle of the night and you’ve got drills in the morning.”

“ _Buir,_ ” Jango huffed and threw the flimsie aside, setting the holo of the treatise aside with more care. Even if he’d never much cared for such things, he always treated objects of knowledge with respect. “I can do drills in my sleep.”

Stepping further into the room, he sat himself next to his son on the bed, hooking an arm around shoulders that seemed to be broadening much too quickly.

“You might have to, you stay up much later,” he ruffled dark curls, grinning when his boy grunted in displeasure. “What bet did you lose?”

A moment of silence, before muffled mumbling.

“What was that?”

“I said, wasn’t a bet.”

Blinking in surprise, he looked down at the top of Jango’s head, wondering if he’d heard him correctly, noting the red climbing the back of his neck. If there was no bet, nothing binding Jango’s honor to do something that he took no pleasure in, why was he forcing himself to read old Iridonian literature?

“Then why are you reading it? You hate reading treatises and other academic paper!”

Shoulders hunched under Jaster’s arm.

“Just… you and Myles were…”

Myles? Oh! Oh.

_Oh, Jango._

“If you want to read something together so we can talk about it,” smiling warmly down at his son, heart squeezing in his chest, Jaster felt so lucky to have this. “Why don’t we find something we’ll _both_ enjoy, ad’ika?”

“… you mean it?” face red and scowl firmly affixed, his son looked up at him. “We can?”

“Of course! I won’t torture you by making you read things you hate just so we can have a political debate about ancient history, Jango.”

“Good. That was so _boring_ , _Buir_!”

Laughing brightly, he hugged his son close, breathing in the scent of soap in his hair, warmth spreading through his chest.

Definitely better than nightmares.


End file.
